For the Love of Bunnies
by Jessa4865
Summary: PWP. Involving bunnies. Sort of. EO
1. Chapter 1

For the Love of Bunnies  
Jezyk  
Disclaimer: Not mine, or they'd be on HBO and you'd be seeing a lot more of this.  
Summary: PWP. 'nuf said.

Dedicated to all the bunnies out there, especially Flooper, just for being bunnies.

AN: No smut in this part, but it's coming. I promise. :)

The snow had been coming down for hours. Normally, she loved the snow, enjoyed the cozy feeling of wrapping herself in a thick sweater and watching something pure and clean blanket the city of perpetual filth. For a few hours, the city was absolutely beautiful and pristine. The idea of softly falling snow made her giddy inside like a little kid who hadn't yet been jaded by her life.

But she wasn't in the city where the trains promised her a safe ride home despite the wet streets.

She was smack dab in the middle of bumble fuck, tearing down a winding country road at an obnoxious speed, with Elliot pressing the accelerator harder and harder as the snow continued to accumulate on the unsalted road. She understood his anger and was thankful he wasn't taking it out on her. They'd caught a case that morning, the details of the child's disappearance so much like that of an old case that Cragen had sent them to go re-interview the parents. Except that after their daughter had disappeared five years earlier, they'd packed up their other two children and moved away, convinced that a small town three hours away from Manhattan would save what they had left.

And maybe it had. Their other two children remained healthy and happy.

The parents, however, hadn't done nearly so good a job patching up themselves over their missing baby. And so, while they allowed Elliot and Olivia into their home, they had nothing to say. Every question they were asked was met with either uncertainty or the utter conviction that the police already had the information.

Just when they thought they were leaving with nothing, the father had lit into them, cursing them for never having found their daughter, for having stirred up his wife's emotions once again. They didn't give a damn about saving another kid, he said, not when no one had ever saved theirs, not when no one had ever been able to tell them if she was alive or dead. And so they wound up with less than nothing, feeling slightly worse about the new case than they had going in.

Olivia didn't try to draw Elliot out. It wasn't worth getting blasted for asking him to talk. She knew kids upset him, especially the ones that never got solved. He was always touchy about kids, even more since his divorce, which gave him even less of an opportunity to protect his own kids since he rarely saw them.

Instead she gripped the arm rest and tried not to give away how terrified she was of the way he was driving. If he saw that she was scared, he'd assume that meant she didn't trust him and that would set him off too. Besides, she did trust him. It was the slick surface of the twisting road that she didn't trust.

After the third time she felt that sick motion of the car sliding sideways and he still didn't let up, she couldn't help it anymore. Survival instincts kicked in.

"El, you should probably slow down a bit." She bit her lip, waiting for him to snarl and scream.

He seemed perfectly calm when he replied without easing his foot up off the gas pedal. "I'm trying to get us back to civilization before we get stuck out here."

She held her tongue for a few moments, until the car fishtailed around the next turn. "Jesus, El, come on. What good is it going to do to get both of us killed out here?"

He did snarl that time. "It'll put us both out of our misery."

She concentrated on looking at the road, what little of it she could see in the seconds the windshield wipers cleared it before it was immediately obscured again. "Just in case only one of us dies in the wreck, it's really going to suck for the other to be out here alone in a busted up car with a dead partner, you know?"

"You keep bitching about my driving, but I didn't see you volunteer." He turned to look at her and she wanted to yell about him taking his eyes off the road, but she knew it didn't matter much. It wasn't like he could see any better than she could.

Refusing to give him the point that she hated driving, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. "Of course not. I have the sense not to drive in this."

"Back off, Olivia."

His words, his tone, were enough of a warning.

But the way he glared at her really drove the point home.

And in that second, she saw a flash of brown in the whiteout before them. "El, watch out!"

His reflexes were lightning fast, allowing him to jerk the wheel to the side in plenty of time. As the car slid off the road, Olivia watched as the bunny, disoriented by the weather, hopped happily the rest of the way across the road.

Bunnies were like snow. They made her smile.

"Is something funny?"

She shook her head, craning her neck as she watched the bunny disappear into the woods on the other side of the road. The rabbit didn't get run over and didn't have to deal with pissy Elliot. She wished she was so lucky.

He waited only long enough for the adrenaline rush to wane a bit before he reached for the gas pedal. The car barely moved an inch before the snow started flying up around the spinning tires.

He glared at her again while he shifted into reverse, trying to get back onto the road the same way he'd gotten off. The car rolled about six inches that time, but in the end, the effect was much the same.

"Oh, this is just fucking great. Thanks, Liv." He tried again, shifting into drive and reverse each once more before he threw the car into park and growled at her. "Get over here and steer."

She looked at him like he was insane. "What are you going to do?"

He didn't answer her. He didn't need to as he climbed out of the car and braced himself against the open door and the frame.

Sliding across the seat, she tried the same as Elliot had, hoping the addition of his strength would be enough to coax the car out of the ditch. But the snow had been falling for some time and the ground was thoroughly wet underneath. When the tires ran out of snow to throw at the car, they moved onto mud slinging.

She wanted to giggle at Elliot, at the mud splattered all over his dress pants, at the mud that had made it up onto his face as well. But she didn't dare, not when he had that look in his eyes. Instead she tried to play on his softness for the damsel in distress, and looked at him hopefully. "Maybe we can try again in a couple of minutes. You'll be able to get it moving." Stroking his ego usually helped too.

He sat down beside her, not even bothering to warn her before he nearly plopped on her lap. "We're in a fucking Oldsmobile, Liv. We're not going anywhere without a tow."

She slid back to her side of the car, hoping he would close the door to keep out the cold. The display on her phone was disappointing, but not exactly surprising. "I don't have a signal." She glanced at him, as though his phone on the same network might have better luck a foot to the left.

"Let's go. We're burning daylight." Rather than shutting the door, Elliot stood up once again, pulling his suit coat on before his winter coat.

"Are you kidding?" They were exactly nowhere. She was sure they'd freeze before they got anywhere.

"We don't have enough gas to run the heater all night." He pulled his gloves on as soon as he was finished zipping his coat. "Freeze in there alone or out here with me. Take your pick."

Grumbling, she followed suit, pulling on her coat and hat and gloves. As she fell in step beside him, she noticed the smug grin on his face. Like following him had anything to do with his charming presence and her desire to be with him. It hadn't. The fact was, Elliot was a tough guy and she knew he'd go above and beyond to keep her from freezing to death just because she was a woman.

She tried to wear sensible shoes to work. Although she usually attempted to make a nod to fashion, she mostly picked low-heeled shoes or flats so she would be able to run or climb or fight if she needed to. But shoes that she could sprint in for a few minutes weren't the same as shoes that she could hike through the snow in. Her toes were numb and her feet were aching, though she wasn't sure if it was from the cold or the pointy toes. Her fingers were numb too and though she tucked them under her arms to try to keep them warm, it really wasn't working.

And snow was blowing into her face and somehow slipping between her scarf and her skin, leaving her neck positively freezing.

The only good thing about the moisture from the snowflakes on her cheeks was that it masked the frustrated tears.

She wondered how the bunny could stand to be out in such weather. She suspected a full body fur coat might have something to do with it.

It had been almost an hour and besides muttered grumbling to themselves, nothing else had been said.

So it came as a shock when Elliot turned to look at her with a scowl. "I should have hit the fucking rabbit."

Olivia glared back and tried to stop her teeth from chattering. "I would never have spoken to you again if you tried to hit that bunny."

He rolled his eyes and kept walking, trudging down the road at a terribly slow, yet still exhausting rate.

An hour after that, Olivia's tears had long since frozen into icicles and she sincerely wished she'd opted to take her chances in the car. At least there was no wind in the car, even if she hadn't been able to run the heater.

He stopped walking, leaning against the guard rail for a rest. "I'm not wearing suits to work anymore. I'm going to find some flannel lined jeans."

She grinned, cheered to know he was cold, and that he had to be suffering like she was if he was admitting that he was uncomfortable. She perched on the railing next to him, happy to give her feet a rest. "I'm wearing snow boots. No more dress shoes for me."

He laughed. "You and me both. That is, if my feet aren't amputated from the frostbite." He reached over, his hands tightening her scarf, tucking the ends into her coat. "You've got to be freezing."

"Nah, I'm mostly numb now." She smiled at him, recognizing that the workout had burned away his anger and he was back to being her partner. "But if you decided to build a fire, I wouldn't complain."

He stood up. "Better keep moving before our butts freeze to the guard rail."

"You've got mud on you." She reached up, her glove clearing off the mud splattered on his nose.

"Thanks for telling me now." He reached out a hand to help her to her feet.

She let out a laugh, his humor warming her insides the slightest bit. "I didn't have to tell you at all."

He smiled at her, keeping her hand in his as he walked. "I'm glad I didn't hit the bunny."

"Me too." She squeezed his hand and decided she'd had worse days.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

It wasn't too much longer before Elliot's steady pace stopped suddenly, letting Olivia, who was staring at her feet to make sure they were still there since she hadn't been able to feel them in a good long time, bump into him.

She looked up, curious as to the deep concentration on his face. "What?"

"Am I hallucinating?" Because he appeared to be perfectly serious, she looked around and saw nothing of any interest.

"Why do you think you're hallucinating?" If he saw something nice, she kind of wished she was hallucinating with him.

"That looks like a motel up there." He pointed up a steep hill.

Her gaze followed his hand, squinting at the run down building. "It looks like it might have been a motel. Not sure if it's still one."

He grinned. "It has a vacancy sign." He tugged on her hand, the one she'd entirely forgotten he was still holding, and started up the incline.

Talk about adding insult to injury. Her water- and ice-logged feet were hurting so badly and she was freezing and had been walking for hours and the only hope she had to not die on the spot was to climb a fucking mountain in her favorite damn pants and pointy-toed shoes that were fine for sprinting in short bursts and even passable for hiking in the snow but were absolutely, undeniably not intended for mountain climbing.

To be fair, it wasn't actually a mountain. But it might as well have been for all the work they put into getting to the top.

When they finally got to the front door, they couldn't believe their luck. Not only was it a motel and still running, but there was even someone sitting at the front desk.

Knowing she looked just as insane as Elliot, with snow and ice caked on his clothes and a bright red nose and cheeks, Olivia hung back, atypically cowering slightly behind Elliot as he approached the counter. Of course, it was just as likely that the reason she hung back was due entirely to the way the unshaven, flannel-clad employee smiled at her, displaying a mouth only half full of teeth, and then licked his lips.

Olivia's hands fisted around Elliot's coat, not sure if she was looking for protection or if she was trying to restrain him from decking the man. Only because decking him would undoubtedly result in them having to keep walking in the cold.

Elliot wasn't at all pleased with the guy's stare, and was all too happy to play alpha-male, shifting completely in front of Olivia to block her from view. "We'll take two rooms, please."

The guy tried to see around Elliot, but couldn't due to the fact that he was quite a few inches shorter. "Two rooms? That'll be one-fifty."

She could feel the muscles tensing through all the layers of his clothing and she knew he was going to explode before he even opened his mouth.

"A hundred and fifty dollars?" He scoffed. "Are you fucking kidding?"

The guy smiled the sort of smile that assured Olivia that his brother or cousin or something was the sheriff and would be perfectly happy to put them in lock-up for the night and forget to let them go in the morning. Olivia stood up on her toes, trying to whisper in Elliot's ear from behind.

"Just pay it, El."

Muttering something she was glad she didn't understand, Elliot reached under his coat, pulling out his wallet and slapping a credit card down on the counter.

The guy chuckled. "Cash only."

Elliot was furious and it showed in his tight voice. "We don't have that much cash on us."

"Whadaya got?"

Groaning, Elliot flipped opened his wallet again, pulling out all the cash. Then he turned to Olivia. "How much do you have?"

She handed over the two bills she had on her, which Elliot combined with his and put on the counter.

"We've got fifty-six bucks and I seriously doubt you're going to get a better offer."

In the hopes that she might merit more pity than an unhappy Elliot, she dared step slightly to the side and smiled at the toothless wonder.

He grinned back, making her kind of nauseous. "Just cause you're pretty, babe, I think I can give you something." Without even looking, he grabbed a key off the desk and slapped it down on the counter. "Check out is eight am."

Fuck eight. Olivia had every intention of bailing as soon as the sun came up, if only so she could get home and get a shower that much sooner.

But Elliot wasn't done. "There's only one key."

The guy grinned. "There's only one bed."

She grabbed Elliot's arm again, trying to tell him silently to drop it.

But he didn't hear her. "Come on, you must have a room with two beds. The whole fucking place is empty!"

The guy snickered and took another look at Olivia before his attention turned back to the tiny TV on the counter. "Like you mind."

Olivia pulled a growling Elliot along with her, unwilling to stand there in soaking wet clothes while he murdered the man.

Elliot stripped immediately upon entering the room. Olivia stood there dumbfounded, realizing the man either really, really trusted her or didn't have a single smidgeon of modesty in his body.

Not that she could blame him for the latter. His body was so full of muscle there probably wasn't any room for modesty.

He was down to his t-shirt and boxers by the time he got to the heater located against the far wall. He turned the knob all the way clockwise and was rewarded with the sound of a fan coming on loudly. Proud of his handiwork, or perhaps his ability to leave his partner staring at him with her mouth hanging open, he turned back with a smile.

"Should warm up quick enough."

He paid no attention to her or the fact that she remained in her icicle covered clothing as he retraced his steps, picking up and then hanging his clothes on the hooks nailed into the wall by the door.

She managed a weak smile when she noticed he was looking. "I think I'm going to take a shower."

He nodded. "It'll probably be warm by the time you come out."

Thirty seconds in his presence minus his clothes and she was pretty sure she was melting. But out of a sense of embarrassment that she'd so obviously noticed him and he'd so obviously not noticed her so obviously noticing him, she prodded herself to move. She put her coat on the hook next to his, stretching her scarf over the whole rack to dry and stuffing her hat and gloves on the next hook.

Then she took her fully dressed self into the bathroom to hide.

She couldn't possibly spend the night in the same room, let alone the same bed, as that man without any clothes on.

But once she was no longer looking at him, she realized her teeth were still chattering and so her body started moving. She turned the shower controls on as hot as she could stand, stripped out of her soaked clothes and left them in a messy heap as she stepped under the scalding water. It felt really good for about a minute, at which point her circulation had returned and her skin started to hurt. She flipped the water a bit to the cooler side, and stood under the spray until her body began to feel human again.

She realized the dilemma as soon as she wrapped herself in the threadbare towel. Her panties were dry, as was her shirt. Unfortunately, her pants were still soaked, even more by the puddle of water that had leaked out of the crappy shower curtain. And her shirt came to her waist and no further.

Elliot might not have an ounce of modesty in his body, but she did. And she was not going out there to sleep in a bed with him while he wore only his boxers and she wore a pair of bikini panties and a snug-fitting knit top that by all rights wasn't long enough to wear to work in the first place.

Gripping the towel with vise-like hands, she pulled open the bathroom door a crack, wincing at the rush of cold air dispelling the warmth of the steam.

"El?"

"I'm working on it."

She shook her head and decided against asking. "Can I borrow your shirt?"

That got his attention away from whatever he'd been doing. Suddenly he was in front of her, staring pointedly at her eyes without blinking in such a way that revealed he had, in fact, noticed her attire, or lack thereof. "What?"

She swallowed hard and tried to think of a reason why the situation wasn't funny. Too bad they hadn't thought about stripping down to their skivvies while they were out in the snow. They wouldn't have had to waste money on a motel with the heat they could generate.

She nodded toward her pile of wet clothes on the floor. "I don't have anything I can sleep in. Can I borrow your shirt?"

He swallowed hard and she wanted to gloat. Served him right for stripping in front of her. But instead of reaching for his dress shirt, the one she'd meant, the one that might cover her to her mid-thigh, his hands moved quickly, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head.

And once again, she was speechless, standing a few inches away from the most unfuckingbelievably beautiful man she'd ever seen separated by a thin towel and a pair of boxer briefs. Someone somewhere was having a good laugh at her.

Rather than correct him, which she feared might embarrass him, she forced a tiny smile, snagged the shirt from him hands, and closed the door between them.

She wondered if he'd notice if she never came out of the bathroom. She could claim that she was sick, that their lunch had disagreed with her, and perhaps he would stay away.

But she would feel guilty, keeping him from taking the same hot shower she had.

So she pulled the shirt over his head, refusing to acknowledge how fucking wonderful it smelled, and looked at herself in the mirror. Oh, yeah. Trouble. One of them was in a shitload of trouble and, for the moment at least, she suspected it was him.

Because the shirt, though painfully oversized, hung down to just shy of her crotch. Good luck trying not to look, Stabler, she thought. Even if she stood completely still, there was still a flash of royal blue between her thighs, the bright color only highlighted by the white of the shirt. She giggled as she imagined going through the same motions as he had of hanging up her clothes on the hooks, knowing that lifting her arms would display more.

Poor Elliot.

He'd probably wind up taking a cold shower.

"You ok in there?"

"Yeah, just soaking up the steam." She couldn't stall any longer or risk him finding out she was uncomfortable.

"Share the wealth, would you?"

She picked up her clothes and opened the door, stepping into the room that was anything but warm. "It's freezing in here."

"I think it's working now." He shrugged and she looked over at the heater, which he'd taken apart while she was showering. "At least it's not blowing ice cold air, which is a vast improvement."

Of course the asshole had given them the room with the broken heater. Because it was their lucky fucking day.

"Hot water works." She started arranging her clothes on the hooks, knowing there was no chance any of it would dry unless the heater actually started working. She shivered at the thought of putting on cold, wet clothes in the morning. "I'll call Cragen."

"Already did. He said he'd send the state police out in the morning with a tow truck to get the car and if it's working, they'll bring it here. Otherwise, they'll give us a – a – a - um."

As she was working, she dropped one of her socks, not even thinking about it when she bent down to get it.

But she realized what she'd done when her partner started stuttering. He'd certainly gotten more than a flash of her bikinis when she bent over at the waist.

Oops.

It was kind of nice to hear him responding in some manner to her.

Pretending she didn't understand, she turned to look at him. "They give us what, El? Spit it out."

His voice came out low and husky and her plan to tease him only backfired when she heard it. "They'll give us a ride to a car rental place." It had to be the sexiest fucking sentence ever uttered.

Shivering from more than the cold, she nodded mutely and walked over to the bed. She knew better than to expect much from the blankets, but she was hoping they'd help make up the difference between the warm bathroom and the cold bedroom. But as she grabbed them to pull them back, she heard Elliot's voice from where, apparently, he was still watching her.

"Can you lay on the other side?"

Baffled by his words, she looked at him with the thin cover still in her hands. "Why?" They weren't going to be there long enough for him to get picky of which side of the bed to sleep on. Of course, she remembered, he'd been married and maybe his side of the bed was important to his emotional well-being.

Not that she'd appreciate it much if he were to think of Kathy while he was in bed with her in her bikinis.

He motioned at the door and then at the bed. "Just in case your friend wants to try something, I intend to be between you and the door."

She rolled her eyes. Like those two feet would make a bit of difference if someone busted through the door on them. "Whatever."


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

The shower was running before she made it to "her" side of the bed. She snuggled into the blanket and tried to keep herself warm. Her coat was still wet, but she wasn't sure if it would still be warmer than dry, cold blankets. What she needed, she realized, was Elliot, barely decent, to come back into the room, which would allow her entirely inappropriate thoughts to keep her plenty warm.

In no time at all, he was back. He checked the heater first, turning to her with a smile. "Warm air. Finally."

Still trying to force her thoughts from the idea of Elliot in the shower five feet on the other side of a thin wall, she croaked out her agreement. "Great." And it was great, because if it got warm enough to dry their clothes, she wouldn't have to sleep in the bed with him with nothing on except the panties that had become rather wet too what with her thinking about him in the shower and all.

Just hearing the confirmation that the heater was working made her feel better, and she watched him stride back across the room. Between him and the heater, she wasn't sure she'd need the blanket for much longer.

Of course, she knew, if she laid there without the blanket, Elliot would likely notice her and the fact that his shirt had ridden up and maybe replace the blanket and do a damn good job of keeping her warm. With the way he filled out his shorts, she was really tempted to try it.

"I'm going to put these on the heater to dry." He grabbed her clothes off the hooks and took them back to the heater, stretching out her pants and hat and scarf. She watched as he paused, staring at the bra she'd put under her pants on the hook. She wanted to giggle as his face reddened. Finally, he returned to the hooks, put her bra back on one and grabbed her socks and gloves instead.

There was something sweetly intimate about seeing her bra hanging there next to his shirt and tie. It was like snow. And bunnies. It made her smile.

As did the fact that he'd just had her bra in his hands.

She rolled onto her side and told herself to sleep. Letting her mind wonder was only going to get her into trouble. Since he was single, though, she wasn't sure how much trouble it would be. She was fairly certain they could go at it like rabbits and still work together with no one the wiser.

"What are you grinning about?"

"Bunnies." With a giggle, she stretched and then curled back up.

He walked around the room one more time, switching off the lights as he went. That was depressing. If something were to happen, she wanted to be able to see. If Elliot were to climb on top of her and suggest they keep each other warm and occupied, she wanted to see the look in his eyes. If he decided to fuck her, she wanted to make sure he was looking at her and not pretending she was his ex-wife.

Despite his attempt to darken the room, the obnoxiously bright street lights shone through the shabby curtains, keeping the room light enough that she was content there'd be no pretending she was a blonde.

Her thought process had done little to lull her to sleep. Thoughts of Elliot and sex were worse than caffeine, leaving her wide awake and wishing she had the nerve to suggest doing something that might exhaust them both. But she remained still and quiet, trying to be considerate of her partner, feeling bad that while she was having amusing, pleasant thoughts about him he was probably remembering sharing a bed with his wife and missing his family.

It wasn't too much later when he broke the silence. "Are you cold?"

She was, though nowhere near as cold as she'd been earlier. "Yeah."

His hand patted her shoulder. "Lift up."

Out of instinctive trust, she pushed herself up on her elbow before she bothered to ask. "What?"

And then his right arm slipped under her head, his body spooning behind her, his left arm curling around her waist. "No use both of us being cold, right?"

She smiled as she settled back down, letting her head rest on his bicep. "No, not really." She shifted around, her body deliciously warm and comfortable, but her head missed the thin pillow. "Your arm is as hard as a rock, El."

He snickered, as though he was glad she'd commented on his muscles. "Sorry."

"That's ok. It's still pretty to look at." She wasn't about to let him have the last word. And just to dissuade him from trying, as she suspected he would when he stopped chuckling, she shifted her ass the slightest bit, feeling his instantaneous reaction and the way he tried to subtly shift back. He stopped chuckling immediately.

It took all of her concentration to keep the giggle to herself.

They were adults, she reminded herself. They could share the warmth of snuggling in a shitty motel after they'd tried to freeze themselves to death in the snow. There was no reason they had to resort to ripping off what clothing was left between them just because the opportunity presented itself.

Damn it, another reason bunnies rocked.

If they wanted to fuck, they fucked. End of story. They didn't lie there next to each other trying to think up reasons they shouldn't. They were honest about their feelings, up front, unencumbered by morals and rules and rights and wrongs.

No wonder bunnies made her smile.

Sex with hot guys made her smile too. Unfortunately, it didn't appear that would be happening, what with Elliot on his best behavior and all.

And despite her passive-aggressive attempts to move things along, Elliot was sound asleep in less than a minute. He could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. She'd asked him about it once when she'd gone to get him from the crib ten minutes after he'd headed up for a nap, amazed that he was actually asleep. It was a trick he'd learned in the Marines, he said, they never knew when they'd get their next chance at sleep, they learned to fall asleep quickly.

She envied him for being unconscious and thus out of his misery. She was still in hers, trying not be turned on by the way his belly pressed against her back with each slow, even breath he took. Without thinking about what she was doing, and while deciding that if he asked she'd blame it on sleep, she rested her arm over his, entwining their fingers. And then she seriously went about trying to sleep.

She wasn't sure, but she thought he squeezed her hand just as she was drifting off.

Surprisingly, she slept quite soundly and promptly refused to think about the psychological ramifications of the fact that the first good night sleep she'd had in several years had been while she was snuggling with her partner. Because if she thought much about it, she would quickly arrive at the conclusion that she'd been a moron to have ever thought otherwise.

Who wouldn't sleep well in those warm, strong, protective arms?

Part of her was loathe to wake him. She wanted to enjoy the contented warmth as long as she could.

The rest of her was rather afraid he'd wake up and find her awake and still cuddled up to him. He'd tease her mercilessly about it.

Although, considering that his duty weapon was still sitting on the TV next to hers, the way his gun was pressed against her ass, she'd have ample reason to tease him right back.

She sighed and pulled the blanket up further before she closed her eyes once again. Clearly he was far more likely to be embarrassed, so it was ok for her to be vulnerable.

It was abundantly obvious when he woke up. First, his arm tightened around her as his hips ground against hers. Then he groaned, his mouth pressing against her neck. And then, the icing on the cake. His groan turned into a word, and not the word she would have expected.

"Liv."

She would have thought the name on his lips in that sexy, sleepy, satisfied voice would be Kathy. She was so busy being surprised that he moaned her name into her hair that she didn't even think about moving. And even if she'd been able to think straight feeling his hot breath on her skin, she would have expected that, since he was awake, he would notice that he wasn't dreaming, that he was actually touching her, and then move away quite quickly. She never would have thought up what he did next.

His head moved, his lips brushing against her hair and neck until finally, his mouth found her ear. At the same time as his arm tightened sharply, his hand flattened against her belly and pulled her into him as he thrust forward, his teeth latched onto her earlobe and he suckled it.

Fuck, that man was really fucking coordinated first thing in the morning.

All that while Olivia still wasn't sure which of the tangled limbs under the blanket belonged to her.

Still too stunned to move and afraid he might read her stubborn stillness as rejection, she managed to force some sort of entirely incoherent string of vowels out of her mouth. As much lusting after the man as she'd done over the years, she'd thought she'd be ready and eager and happy to fight him for control.

But really, what did she care who was on top?

Didn't make a fucking bit of difference to her. Not with him. Not with a man she trusted with her life.

His tongue lapped against her ear, leaving a moist trail as it slid down the column of her throat. When he reached the collar of his shirt, he reversed directions and licked his way back up. Finally, she seemed to regain voluntary control of her body, digging her nails into his arm as she pushed her ass back against him.

And that was all it took for him to move away, leaving her cold and hurt and confused.

But only for the moment it took her brain to register that his hand was on her hip, pushing her body flat on the bed, giving her the briefest possible window to prepare herself for his weight dropping unapologetically onto her.

Good god the man was heavy. All that muscle weighed a freaking ton, sending the air rushing out of her lungs.

And he made it quite impossible to replace that lost air when he planted his mouth firmly over hers. Conveniently, the feel of his soft lips and hot breath and itchy five o'clock shadow and even that impressive weight made air completely unnecessary. Her arms moved up, her fingers tracing the shape of his arms, sliding over his skin, marking him, memorizing him. When her hands met behind his head, she pulled his face harder against hers, unconcerned that her teeth might break off with much more pressure.

He understood the message though, his lips parting finally, his tongue meeting hers halfway as they battled for position. She conceded because she didn't see having his tongue in her mouth as much of a loss. And although he kissed her quite thoroughly, he seemed to understand the wisdom of her decision and allowed her the same privilege soon after.

It was only seconds, or maybe it just felt that way, before he was moving to kneel, pulling her body from the bed with one arm, yanking the shirt off her before she even realized what he intended. After having Elliot warming her, the otherwise comfortable air in the room was freezing, raising goosebumps on her flesh, puckering her nipples tightly. His mouth was on her throat as he lowered her back down, the heat of his body warming her as he covered her once again.

But then he was moving, shifting, sliding, and she wanted to complain for she was far from done kissing him.

But she couldn't really complain about the way his mouth and tongue were sliding down, touching, tasting, licking every bit of her body. He traced her collarbone, her shoulders, the hollow of her throat. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he moved, uncertain when her entire body had become so sensitive. His hands were moving up while his mouth was exploring. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them, molding them to his hands, as his mouth worked over their tops one at a time. His fingers found one nipple, rubbing and massaging it while his mouth closed over the other.

Jesus, she thought she might have just come. While she felt the pleasure rolling through her, she was still wound up and throbbing for want of coming. The things the man did to her were just not right.

Not that what he was doing with his tongue was wrong at all.

She groaned, fisting her hands in the blanket, arching her back up as though she expected him to suck her whole breast, maybe her whole body into his mouth. He didn't seem to mind. A few Earth-shattering moments later, he was leaving a trail of wet kisses over to the other breast, repeating the same motions, with much the same effect.

And that was why she remembered wanting control. Because she'd known all along that the man could and would dominate her in such a pleasant way that she'd be happy to just lie there while he reduced her to a quivering puddle of goo. And while she was tempted to let him do just that, the competitive spirit in her, the part with no nerve endings, insisted that she have her chance to prove that he was as helpless under the same conditions.

She dropped the blanket and reached for his shoulders, nails digging in as she pushed him until he was kneeling again. He continued to bend, his mouth seeking her skin, but she wasn't having any of it. So he made her crazy and rendered her senseless. That was fine, as long as it went both ways.

Couldn't have him thinking he called all the shots.


	4. Chapter 4

_and finally, the end... enjoy!_

Part Four

Using his powerful thighs for leverage, she pushed herself out from under him, shoving him onto his back before he had a chance to ask or argue. As she moved to straddle him, she smiled at him, seeing the trusting, permissive gaze he offered her. That look itself was a power trip for her, seeing that he wasn't going to question or fight, knowing he was just as happy to turn himself over to her as he'd been to take her.

She wanted to reward him for his trust.

And show him what he'd been missing for all those years.

Leaning down, she kissed him again, amazed at the sensation of finally tasting his mouth the way she'd always wanted. And with the way he was letting her, touching her, caressing her back, fondling her breasts, unhurriedly, she knew he'd thought a lot about the kissing too.

Reminding herself that there was plenty of time for kissing later, she pulled her mouth away from his. Her lips drifted over his body, the same way he had done with her. She loved the taste of his skin, the smell of him as his body heated up, she couldn't imagine a better spot on Earth. Slowly, she worked down his chest, kissing and licking and touching him in all the ways she'd imagined. She'd always shied away from men who were built like he was, some part of her too afraid to turn over trust to someone who could so easily overpower her. But it was different with Elliot, she knew he would never hurt her, and so she loved the way his hard muscles felt as they moved under his soft skin. She loved the way they tensed and released as she kissed them. She loved that they would protect her any time she needed protecting.

Slowly she worked her way down his abdomen, feeling his dick fighting the restraints of his boxers, listening to his guttural moaning as her mouth mapped his body. Her tongue traced the last bit of skin above the elastic, figuring that was enough of a warning for him. She'd made her intentions pretty damn clear as far as she was concerned.

He offered no resistance as she pulled at his shorts, lifting his hips from the bed to help her, making no complaint when her nails dragged down his legs as she removed them. Once she'd flung them to the floor, she looked at him, taking in the full image of him, his perfect body in all its naked glory, hot and erect and completely at her mercy.

And then his hands were tugging at her panties, pulling them lower on her hips. Wanting to let him see her the way she was seeing him, she pushed herself up long enough to toss them aside. Then she slowly lowered herself back to straddle his legs, giving him time to just look at her.

The look in his eyes was nearly enough to kill her. She'd never seen such love and adoration and desire aimed at her.

She wasn't going to cry during sex because it was far too cheesy, but damn it, she thought about it.

Her head lowered, her hands resting on his hips, her tongue sliding over her lips in anticipation.

"Liv." She could hear it in his voice, the hesitation, the longing. He was going to tell her she didn't have to, even though he wanted it. He really was just too fucking perfect.

And at some point in the future, maybe when her mouth wasn't wrapped around his dick, she might tell him that. In the meantime, she sucked and licked and tasted and teased and loved every inch of him. She loved the way he felt in her hand as she held him. She loved the way his hips fought against his attempts to hold them still. She loved the way he keened her name through clenched teeth.

If there was one thing she could say with certainty, it was that Kathy hadn't known what the fuck she was doing down there. She couldn't have, not with the way Elliot responded to what was probably not the best blow job in the history of all the time.

But hell, maybe it was.

She knew he was nearly there and she reluctantly let him down easy, not about to let their fun end so soon. As she kissed her way back up his body, she felt his arms wrap around her, holding her so tightly it seemed he was afraid she might try to get away.

Just as her mouth was level with his and she moved in to kiss him, he spoke again, his gravely, thick voice sexier than anything she'd ever heard. And so were his words.

"I love you."

She froze for a second, unsure how to respond. She wasn't sure he meant it, if maybe he just thought he was supposed to say that when he was in bed with someone, if maybe he thought she expected it or needed it.

And rather than speaking any of her thoughts, her mouth opened and she responded without even knowing what she was going to say.

"I love you too."

It frightened her to admit it, to hear her voice revealing something so personal, but there she was, straddling her naked partner with nothing separating them, and she wasn't scared. She knew she could trust him. She knew somehow that his words had been true, not just formulaic.

He moved quickly, taking advantage of her muddled thoughts, flipping her back over and climbing on top of her. She could read his thoughts, his intent clear as he pushed his hips lower and dipped his head.

"No." She shook her head at him.

"No?" He looked quite confused, and more than a little disappointed.

She grinned at him, her hand moving to stroke his dick, totally distracting him. "Later. We've got time." She'd waited long enough to feel him inside her. She wasn't waiting any longer.

The smile was slow to spread across his face and she could see the way he was working through her words. "Later?"

She nodded, realizing he'd thought it was a one time deal, that there would be no next time, that he would never get another chance to worship her body. "Later."

To help speed things along, she widened her legs, bending her knees, fairly begging him to seal the deal.

And he did. After one brief swipe of his fingers across her to make sure she was as ready as she claimed, he was inside of her, stretching her, filling her, making her scream with pleasure at actually having him where she'd wanted him from the day they'd met.

One look at his gorgeous face and she'd been willing to bend over the nearest desk and fuck if the man hadn't made her wait more than a decade to give them what they both wanted.

She ached her back until she could reach his shoulders and pull herself up, her teeth finding his neck and latching on, biting down hard enough to make sure she left a mark for making her wait so long. He didn't seem to notice that she'd gone vampire on him. He was supporting her, his hands under her ass, thrusting up into her as gravity pushed her down. His head was leaning forward, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

"Fuck, Liv."

She giggled as she let go of the skin she'd bruised quite thoroughly. Good luck explaining that to the guy at the front desk. And the state troopers. And Cragen. And anyone else the poor pale-skinned Irishman would see for the next week.

"I think that's what we're doing, El." To punctuate her words, she moved her legs, wrapping them around his waist, playing on the fact that he was so fucking strong he could support her without help.

As he started to laugh, his rhythm faltered, his hands slipping on her sweat-slicked skin. Luckily, when she started to fall backwards, he was right there with her, landing on top of her and ready to start pumping again.

"Smooth." She teased him, watching his face try to laugh and be completely serious at the same time.

"Stop making me laugh, Liv. This isn't the time!" He sounded frustrated, even as he kept right on chuckling.

She leaned up, grabbing his ear with her teeth. "If we can't laugh now, when can we?"

"Later. We've got time." He parroted her words back at her and she realized he was right.

They were able to share a laugh in the most intimate situation and that was a good sign, but it was perfectly understandable that when they came together for the first time he wanted it to be solemn and reverent.

Her nails dug into his back as her body started to tighten, knowing he could feel her getting closer, knowing he was probably right there as well. And she loved him a little bit more, just because he'd wanted to go down on her to get her off first, just because he was trying to wait for her.

His fingers were gripping her hips so tightly she knew he was leaving bruises just as dark, though not as public, as the one she'd left on his neck. She hadn't expected any less; she knew Elliot would have to mark her physically in some way. He wouldn't be Elliot Stabler if he didn't insist on playing the alpha male in every possible situation.

She reached up, pulling his bottom lip into her mouth, tasting it, tasting him. He pushed his tongue in, trying to put as much of himself inside her as possible. And while he was tasting her, she felt his hand work between them, his fingers pressing her clit, rubbing her until it overwhelmed her.

It only took a moment, her body almost seizing as she felt the orgasm roll through her, her fingers gouging into something as her back arched and her body exploded and the world went dark.

Holy fucking hell.

She wasn't even sure of her own name as her body shook, her release still washing over her, her body still feeling shockwaves, tightening around him as he thrust a few more times until he was there too, calling her name as he emptied himself inside of her, collapsing heavily when he came back down.

Yeah, she'd been right about Elliot making a better blanket. She'd never been so warm and happy and comfortable in her life.

Eventually, he let out a deep breath, lifting his body onto his forearms. "Am I crushing you?"

She shook her head, her arms involuntarily tightening around him. "No. Stay there."

He smiled, his eyes drooping as he blinked at her. "I plan to."

She smiled back as he dropped his face into her neck. She figured if he stayed right where he was, she'd be the first to know when he was ready for later to happen.

Bunnies had it all figured out. Fuck when they want, play when they want, hop around and be fuzzy the rest of the time. No wonder they made her smile. She giggled happily.

He lifted his face once again, looking at her with his brow furrowed. "What are you thinking about?"

She giggled again. "I want a pet bunny."

And then he was laughing too.


End file.
